Skystorm (Ryan Decker)

by Steven Konkoly

  Holy shit. She just got it. Decker started to open his mouth, but she silenced him.

  “The bounty,” she said.

  Now they all got it.

  “For security reasons,” said Decker.

  “Precisely,” said the man. “I knew you weren’t stupid.”

  “Don’t eliminate crazy,” said Garza.

  “I haven’t,” said the man, glancing in Garza’s direction. “Your reputations preceded you.”

  “So. Where does that leave us?” said Decker.

  “Mexico is out of the question,” said the man. “Word gets around fast down there, and I can count the number of paisanos who would pass up twenty million dollars on one finger.”

  “El Jefe?” said Decker.

  “Sí. He’s a man of his word,” said the man. “But he also understands the upper limits of loyalty. Keeping you out of Mexico is the only way for him to honor the arrangement.”

  “And your men here?” asked Decker.

  “Word travels a little slower north of the border,” he said. “Which is why I’d prefer to get you on the road as soon as possible. There’s only so much I can control once word gets out. Some of your million-dollar fee will go to help with that.”

  “Sounds like we need to come up with plan B. Fast,” said Decker. “What do we have to work with? How far can you take us?”

  “Well, like I said. Word travels slower up here—but it eventually reaches its destination,” he said. “So it all depends on your risk tolerance. There’s no risk to getting you well clear of the greater Los Angeles area—say, Bakersfield or a similar distance up the coast. Barstow and Palm Springs to the east. Maybe San Bernardino National Forest. You could get lost up there for a while. Then there’s San Diego. Though I’d recommend moving away from the border.”

  “I have an idea for plan B,” said Harlow.

  “Already?” said Decker.

  “San Bernardino National Forest made me think of something.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to it,” said the man, glancing at Garza. “While I work on his situation. Shouldn’t be long.”

  As soon as their host shut the door, Decker turned to the rest of the crew.

  “You guys were awfully quiet.”

  “We didn’t want to upset the perfect balance the two of you were striking between getting us killed and keeping us alive,” said Pam.

  “I was mostly just scared shitless,” said Joshua, giving them all a quick laugh.

  “I think we’re fine,” said Katie. “I don’t trust that guy any farther than Joshua could throw him, but the whole Mexico angle makes sense in light of the twenty million. Hell. I might turn you in.”

  “Twenty million is an awful lot of money, Decker,” said Garza. “I wouldn’t trust any of these turds.”

  “Shit. He’ll be on the phone with APEX before he finishes breakfast,” said Pam.

  “Uh. I’ll borrow one of those gangbangers’ phones on the way to breakfast,” said Garza, even getting a laugh out of Decker.

  Harlow wanted to join in on the fun, but the thought of a twenty-million-dollar bounty made her head spin. Then she thought of something they’d all apparently missed.

  “What’s up, Harlow?” said Pam. “You’re usually the first to laugh at Decker.”

  Katie gave her a high five.

  “Our new cartel friend never said the twenty million was for Decker.”

  “I knew she was going to kill the little fun we were having,” said Pam.

  “We can all laugh it up later. Right now I’d like to hear Harlow’s idea,” said Decker. “Because I can guarantee you that at least eighteen of that twenty million is for my head.”

  “Probably nineteen,” said Pam, before glancing at Harlow. “I hope your plan involves selling Decker.”

  “That’s plan C,” said Harlow.

  PART THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Sheriff Harvey Long excused himself from the conference room, where he’d been stuck for the past hour with county supervisors and their staff, going over the latest numbers in the entirely futile effort to halt the flow of unregulated cannabis from Humboldt County’s share of the Emerald Triangle. He could have started and ended the meeting with one sentence: Nothing’s changed or is ever going to change, folks. Have a nice day. Actually, that was two sentences.

  “Sorry. I need to take this. Be right back,” he said, before ducking out of the room.

  Sherry Grover, the department’s administrative manager, waited for him outside his office.

  “Line two,” she said. “I refreshed the mug on your desk. Figured you might want to take your time.”

  “I’d like to arrange my own kidnapping,” he said. “You’re the best, Sherry.”

  “Remember that at the end of the year,” she said, nodding back toward the conference room. “When they’re talking in circles about pay raises.”

  “You shall never be forgotten.” Long paused in his doorway. “Did Decker say what was up?”

  “No. Just that it was an emergency,” she said. “He basically begged me to drag you out of that meeting.”

  “He didn’t have to beg,” said Long. “If I’m not back out in ten, why don’t you offer them some water. Keep them from revolting.”

  “And break long-standing tradition?” she said.

  “I’m not suggesting you bring them water,” said Long, smirking. “Just point out where they can find the watercooler.”

  She laughed. “You’re terrible.”

  “They’re lucky the conference room doesn’t have its own thermostat, or I’d make sure it was on the fritz every time they rolled in,” said Long, before ducking into his office.

  He picked up the phone after enjoying a sip of Sherry’s piping-hot coffee.

  “Ryan Decker. A blast from the recent past,” said Long. “I’m guessing this isn’t a social call?”

  “Your law enforcement instincts remain infallible,” said the familiar voice.

  “I was tipped off,” said Long. “What’s going on?”

  “The same organization that we evicted from Alderpoint last year just tried to kill all of us this morning,” said Decker.

  “Who is all of us?” said Long.

  “Me. Harlow. Brad Pierce. Everyone at the firm. My daughter. Probably sent someone to the house to kill my parents. All of us,” said Decker.

  “Not to sound uncaring at the moment, but should I be worried up here?” asked Long.

  “No. It’s hard to explain, but this was triggered by something entirely unrelated to us,” said Decker.

  “I find it hard to believe that destroying their billion-dollar enterprise is unrelated.”

  “Two billion, from what I recall,” said Decker. “And yes, it’s all related, but I actually have a long history of messing with this group’s profit margins. I just didn’t know the actual extent of it until after the Alderpoint thing.”

  “You’re really not convincing me that my family is safe,” said Long.

  “What I’m trying to say is that the vendetta is directed at me and the core group that has been at their throat for the past few years. There’s no evidence to suggest they’re targeting anyone outside of that circle,” said Decker.

  “I appreciate your assessment, but I’ll draw my own conclusions,” said Long.

  “Fair enough.”

  “Since you weren’t calling to warn me, I’ll rephrase my original question,” said Long. “How can the Humboldt County Sheriff’s Department be of assistance?”

  “I need to hide about a dozen people indefinitely,” said Decker. “I couldn’t think of a better place to disappear than Humboldt County.”

  Long had to laugh at that. This Decker guy definitely had a sense of humor.

  “Sounds like a bad travel ad for the Alderpoint area.”

  “Have you been to Alderpoint recently?” said Decker, and they both laughed.

  “Well, owing to the favor you did the Alderpoint community last fall, and the un
godly amount of money they’re going to make from it, I can’t imagine I’d have any problem finding you a quiet little hideaway up in those hills.”

  “You left the operation standing?” asked Decker.

  “Hell no! We chopped down whatever was left and got half the county high with the biggest controlled burn in years,” said Long. “Which also happened to be the Humboldt County Sheriff’s Department’s biggest win in years, so you’re more than welcome to hide out up here on more than one account. Just as long as you don’t bring any trouble back with you.”

  “If the people in those hills can keep a secret, I don’t see that happening,” said Decker.

  “I’m sure they have most of those razed fields back up and running, but I haven’t heard a peep. These people can keep secrets. Especially if it’s in their best interest—and not pissing me off fits that criteria. What’s your time frame and what kind of a setup are you looking for?” asked Long.

  “Somewhere isolated and accessible by a midsize RV. Access to fresh water would keep down the number of trips back and forth,” said Decker.

  “I don’t think we’ll have any trouble finding something like that,” said Long. “When can we expect you?”

  “At the very earliest, late tomorrow morning,” said Decker. “That’s all still up in the air. Tomorrow for sure, unless something significant changes.”

  “Then I better get moving on this,” said Long.

  “Thank you. I’m not sure where we could have turned next,” said Decker.

  “No problem,” said Long. “Did you call this line on purpose, or did you lose my cell phone number?”

  “I ditched my phone,” said Decker. “We’re kind of starting from scratch. One more thing, Sheriff. I just remembered.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is that same sergeant still running the satellite station in Garberville?” asked Decker. “The one that arrested me at the motel?”

  “Sergeant Russell?”

  “I honestly don’t remember his name. Just that he said something that felt really off—especially with his gun pointed at my head. That’s why I snuck in that call to nine-one-one. If he’s still in Garberville, we might be better off hiding in a different part of the county.”

  “Craig Russell is in the Sacramento state prison.”

  “He changed jobs?”

  “No. He’s in a prison cell,” said Long. “I recalled you raising these concerns with me when you were in the hospital. I was too busy to give it much thought at the time, but when the dust settled from last fall’s mess, I had internal affairs do a little digging into that office, and they discovered some irregular bank activity. He jumped on a deal to avoid taking the rap for pretty much everything that went sideways up on the mountain. I think dialing nine-one-one might have saved your life.”

  He gave Decker his number and wished him luck before buzzing Sherry’s line.

  “Something tells me you’re bailing on the supervisors,” she said.

  “Yep. Something a whole lot more interesting just came up,” said Long.

  “That’s not saying much,” she said. “Do you need me to break the bad news?”

  “No. I’ll do it myself. Maybe give them a very abbreviated version,” said Long. “While I’m in there making stuff up, would you mind getting in touch with Luke? I could really use his help with something.”

  “You know how he feels about this kind of thing.”

  “I know. I know. But I need to find a tucked-away place to hide some folks up on the mountain. Sooner than later,” said Long. “And I can’t exactly drive up there myself and start knocking on doors. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need the help. Decker’s in trouble, and I think we should do right by him.”

  “When do you want to meet up with him?” said Sherry.

  “I knew you’d come through. Thank you,” said Long. “I’ll buy him lunch somewhere out this way. I’m sure he doesn’t want to be seen with me anywhere near the mountain.”

  “He barely likes to be seen with me—here in town,” said Sherry. “But I’ll whip him into shape. Big-sister style.”

  “You’re the best, Sherry. I’ll be out to break the bad news after I finish up your coffee. Pay raise is guaranteed this year.”

  “And the check’s in the mail,” she said, ending the call.

  Long sat back and gave this whole thing a once-through. Maybe he’d have Kayla pack up some camping gear and ask her to hide out with them for a few days, while he made sure Decker didn’t drag any trouble into town.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Senator Steele hustled down the jet’s staircase onto the Frederick Municipal Airport tarmac, where a fully tinted black SUV waited. Rich stood beside the vehicle with his hands folded across his waist. All business as usual. She was relieved to see him. He was the only member of the team she had met since hiring the group through a longtime CIA acquaintance.

  Given the day’s startling series of events and the unorthodox nature of this transfer, immediately spotting a familiar face when the jet pulled to a stop may have been the only thing that kept her from ordering the pilot back into the air. The ruggedly handsome, weathered mercenary met her halfway.

  “Can I take your satchel, Senator?” he said.

  “Thank you. But I’ll hold on to it,” she said, and they started walking back to the SUV. “I’m feeling awfully possessive of this bag right now.”

  “I know what it feels like to walk away from everything and think you’ll never get it back, ma’am,” he said. “I’ve done it more times than I’d care to admit.”

  “Has there ever been a time when you didn’t get everything back?” she asked. “And don’t lie to me. I’ll know immediately.”

  He cracked a smile. The first since she’d started working with his team.

  “A few. But that comes with the territory in my line of work,” he said. “You’ll be fine. You’re a United States senator. We just need to give the situation some time to cool down. APEX overreacted.”

  “Overreacted? They tried to kill people that had nothing to do with my investigation into Dalton and SKYSTORM,” said Steele.

  “The escalation was inappropriate and misdirected,” said Rich. “But look at it this way. They specifically chose to send you a message instead of attacking you directly. I’m not saying life goes back to normal anytime soon, but I think this is finished. My job is to make sure you stay safe until we’re certain that’s the case.”

  “What if it’s not the case?”

  “Then we’ll explore some proactive options,” said Rich, opening the rear driver’s-side door for her.

  A woman dressed in a black business suit and gray turtleneck scooted to the opposite side of the bench seat, taking a mean-looking compact rifle with her. The sight of a gun in the hands of someone she’d never met before had more of an impact on her than she’d anticipated. Steele balked at getting in.

  “Senator Steele. This is Cassiopeia. One of the group’s best,” he said, before opening the driver’s door.

  The woman leaned over and offered Steele her hand.

  “Caz, ma’am. Just Caz,” she said, smiling warmly. “And he says that about all of our people.”

  “That’s because I only hire the best,” said Rich.

  “Margaret. Same goes for you, Rich. I’m tired of being called ma’am,” she said, shaking Caz’s hand.

  “As you wish, Senator,” said Rich.

  “I suppose Senator will work if Margaret goes against protocol,” said Steele, before climbing inside the leather cabin.

  “It’s more of a consistency issue,” said Rich. “I need everyone to refer to you by the same name, so there’s no confusion on your part if we address you under more stressful circumstances—and I’m the boss, so I get to pick the name. Plus, I’m a little old school, hence the formality.”

  “A little old school?” said Caz.

  “Let me know when you’re buckled up,” said Rich, easing the SUV forward.

  Sh
e engaged the seat belt. “Ready. Is this thing armored?”

  The SUV took off and built up a scary amount of speed.

  “No. Renting an armored SUV, even in the DC area, felt like a red flag. When that jet lands in LA empty, about six hours from now, they’re going to know you pulled a fast one on them. APEX is thorough. Someone will check armored SUV rentals and figure out how to hijack the tracking systems used by each company. The big-picture risk outweighed the short-term protection. Caz brought an extra ballistic vest, if you want it.”

  “I’ll pass for now,” said Steele. “How long is the drive?”

  “Roughly three and a half hours with traffic.”

  “How far out of DC are we going?” she asked.

  Not that it mattered. She was just a little surprised they would range so far away from the city. Then again, if they felt she’d be the safest in Maine, who was she to argue?

  “Rockville. To a secure estate. Ms. Ragan and her family are on the way. Under protective escort.”

  “Good. I was just about to—” said Steele. “Wait. It shouldn’t take us that long, even with traffic.”

  “We have to run a fairly thorough surveillance-detection route,” said Rich, slowing for the gate ahead of them. “Day and night conditions.”

  “What he means is we’ll be taking the back roads,” said Caz. “To make sure nobody follows us. The scenic route, as my dad used to say.”

  “I see,” said Steele.

  “If you’re hungry, we can grab something to go in Frederick,” said Rich. “I’d rather not stop once we start the SDR.”

  “Might be a good idea to use the restroom, too,” said Caz. “I’m not sure Rich goes to the bathroom. Ever.”

  “Since you put it that way, I suppose we should stop,” said Steele.

  “There’s a Wendy’s close to the airport,” said Rich.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten at a Wendy’s,” said Steele. “Are there any other choices?”

  “Mickey D’s, BK Lounge, Chickwich, Taco Hell,” said Rich. “The usual.”

  “Wow. Hard to choose,” said Steele, thinking she might just use the bathroom and pass on the food.